


The Theater

by victorianvirgil



Series: 13 Days of Halloween (2020) [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 13 Days of Halloween, M/M, Plague AU, apocalypse au, bachelor of medicine!logan, chosen child of god!janus, fr janus thinks he is blessed by god and it's so funny, implied!logince, it's kinda weird so bare with me, local surgeon/haruspex!roman, lowkey angst, or they will but not yet, pathologic/pestilence utopia au, relevant rn so, they're all trying to stop the apocalypse by the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27130289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil
Summary: As if both the left and right hands have grabbed the head to realize for the first time that they are part of one single whole, Bachelor Logan Dankovsky and local surgeon Roman Burakh find themselves on a theater's stage with a town's future in their hands.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Kinda - Relationship
Series: 13 Days of Halloween (2020) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979275
Kudos: 9





	The Theater

**Author's Note:**

> so this is day 2 of our 13 days of halloween, but warning, this one is pretty weird lmao. quotes were taken almost directly from the 2005 russian video game "pathologic" ("pestilence utopia"), and lack of transitions is meant to be creepy. anyway, don't drag me too hard and i hope you enjoy :')

The thick, impenetrable darkness is like a blanket thrown over a corpse.  _ Nothing to see here,  _ it seems to say, but clearly, there is.

A light flickers on and all eyes turn towards center stage where three figures pace around one another like the roaring winds during a hurricane, rivals in every sense of the word fueling one another and furthering the storm. Between them, a dying man rests on a mahogany table, staring blankly into the heavens above as the trio argue tirelessly about how they will save him.

A short, lengthy man begins the scene with a scoff, eyes flickering disconcertingly through his thick, square prescriptions between his two companions. Seemingly mid-sentence, he addresses the youngest of the three, the one propped up on the table beside the chilling carcass, “-So, it’s all about trickery to you, then?”

“No, no...I detest trickery. But if we ourselves are to suffer deception, our hands are no longer tied.” A pause, then juvenile yet viperous eyes turn from the seemingly dead man before him to the sea of vacant theater seats. “But where the hell  _ are  _ we? What a silly place, it’s stuffed.”

The serpent’s question goes unacknowledged, as if the gods above hadn’t entirely decided on an answer, and then the third voice finds purchase in the conversation, gaze fixed on the empty table situated between them all. “Stuffed or not, he’s breathing. See, a muscular contraction is there, Logan, means we’re already inside of him.”

“I know what it means, Roman,” Logan, the Bachelor of Medicine, withholds his scoff. With his scalpel in hand, he draws closer, Roman following suit, the fog from their breaths mingling above them as they lay over the mostly-unmoving form.

Janus, the third was called, huffs, shifting his gaze to look around the theater. Musing to himself, he says, “So, I’m guessing that it’s not real for now? Or at least I don’t think it’s started yet…”

Despite his youth, Janus’ metafictional soliloquy echoes through the walls of the theater, captivating each and every member of the non-existent audience. Logan, however, pays him no mind and instead says to Roman, “Does it matter what it’s made of? It’s definitely struggling. We need to perform  _ sectio transversalis.  _ Cut the wall, there’s no other way out. What else is there to do?”

“I  _ know  _ what to do,” Janus interjects, clearly reaching his limit with being ignored by the incompetent present company, “Those who favor hard logic and direct action are bound to be misguided. Only a miracle can set us free without having to destroy something. And I can  _ do  _ miracles—just let me.”

Suddenly, the trio all stop. They stand motionless, staring blankly ahead like temporarily-abandoned dolls with their hands by their sides. They don’t breathe or blink and we wait. And we wait.

We wait.

A moment passes before, in unison, they return to normal, and Logan begins to talk as if nothing had happened at all. “Will you please be quiet? You’re a liar and a thief; who is going to believe you when you keep lying to yourself?” A pause in consideration before realizing that that would work in his favor. “Well, whatever happens, the truth is my shepherd and I  _ will  _ find answers so that justice will be restored. I will perform the operation, especially since neither a child nor an unlicensed haruspex—or whatever you call yourself—should _.” _

Roman grunts in turn because he, like Janus, is tired of the Bachelor’s pretentious ignorance. “Don’t you go all bossy on me, clever clogs…. You will act justly, but your justice will blind you and become their demise,” he avows, arguing on behalf of the local people, speaking for  _ his  _ people. “This calls for the gentle hand of a surgeon—step aside, both of you.”

Neither move an inch, nor will they concede and let Roman lead this endeavor.

_ “Your  _ gentle hands are used to killing,” Janus almost laughs, “not giving life, and so you will inevitably do harm. As for brainy, he has no regard for casualties at  _ all.  _ Neither of you knows compassion.”

With pursed lips, Logan responds as civilly as possible, “It seems unlikely that we’ll get along well, yes, but there is only one objective truth.”

“Well, any choice is right as long as it’s willed. That’s  _ the truth  _ of the matter,” counters Roman with finality, dark eyes unwavering. Logan meets his gaze and his stomach flips, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

There is another moment of silence, the powers that reigned above carefully weighing their choices, before Janus turns towards the rows upon rows of empty seats, hand on his chest and a smile wide across his devious lips. Mockingly, he begins, “Only the heart will show you the right choice, and if you look inside your own, you will realize that you must stop thinking of yourselves. That you must think of the sick. He’s in pain. I can’t see it yet, but I can feel it.”

“It’s not even a trap...it’s a grave.  _ Sub ipsum fumus sumus.  _ Can’t say I hold a soft spot for it,” says Logan, ignoring Janus once again.

“I can see that,” Roman agrees. “You’re so full of pride, but with love, I can heal him. He can be  _ healed  _ rather than killed.”

“You mean you won’t become a killer? But you will, mark my word, that’s exactly what will happen! But I can avoid it.”

Sighing at the young boy’s words, Logan shook his head dismissively. Then, more to Roman than anything, he says, “No...we won’t ever get along, I suggest that we be on our way—the sooner, the better.”

“Off we go, then?” asks Janus, amusement dancing in his eyes. Unlike his counterparts, he knows what it is next. What is to come.

With a quick glance at the golden pocket watch Logan was holding in his palm, Roman nods, “Yes...the clock is ticking.”

And then the lights die along with any hope of a happy ending, blanket covering the gore beneath once more as the three figures crawl through the shadows like cockroaches.

The three of them are strange, sure, and as Janus looks over his shoulder, he meets the gaze of a masked man watching them from the wings. He winks, and slips off without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!
> 
> been a bit since i've posted, ik, but shit's been going down lately. gotta support mac tho with the 13 days of halloween bc she really wanted to do it lmao
> 
> thank you for reading tho!  
> \- r


End file.
